


.:Part Two:.

by Lord_Of_Dorks



Series: Devout Au [2]
Category: markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Devout AU, Gods, lots of jims, puppo - Freeform, seraphs, very good puppo, very minor gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 06:35:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15657756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lord_Of_Dorks/pseuds/Lord_Of_Dorks
Summary: As new questions arise and old friends appear...What could go wrong on Host's path of redemption?





	.:Part Two:.

**Author's Note:**

> Fully uploaded and finished. I hope you enjoy and feel free to comment!

Part Two: Finding the Path of Redemption

Host’s words lie stunned; paralyzed. Unsure of what to even say, his brothers just smiled warmly at him.

“It’s been a long time Brother. Long six years without you now.” The words seemed solemn, yet their eyes sparkled. “How have you been fairing, Author?” they pondered. Host shook his head roughly, answering.

“The Author is dead. Host is just Host now. He can not call himself Author when he has become someone else, though the Author lives in memories now. Host is Host and he’s okay with that; he is fairing well. It is a blessing to see you again, his brethren, though Host must question why… and how…?”

“We are here for you, Host! Someone wishes to speak to you personally. Chica brought us, of course!” They, chirped, glancing at Jim. “Hello, Jim.” They greeted.

“H-hi?” He was surprised. And mostly confused. They did look all too similar.. They looked like normal people, casual in their mortal disguises, yet the air they held; Jim couldn’t put his finger on it... The twins had an ethereal beauty to them, somehow.

“The time has finally come. The Path of Redemption starts here, with our help... And his.” The Twins gestured to Jim and then Host. “Shall we go? The Deity awaits us.”

Host could only bring himself to nod, so many emotions were swirling around that he thought he’d be sick. Why did the Deity want to talk to him now of all times?

“The Host recommends Jim walk with the Twins. He’ll need assistance to pass through Chica’s gate…” Host commented off handedly, kneeling to pet her softly as a greeting. The Twins only nodded, Host had traveled the gates when he was still Author. He understood the travel between spaces, as he remembered it well. The Twins held out their hands to Jim, who shakily took one in each of his, and they smiled in reassurance.

Chica boofed softly, a shimmering white and gold gate tearing into the fabric of existence. She, nudging Host to step through as she did; she was there to guide him, after all. The two followed behind closely, Jim in tow. Chica’s gate lead to a long winding path, a glowing bridge between spaces, one might call it. Jim gaped at the hall’s walls. Columns were everywhere, the floor see-through, yet solid, and past them lie nothing but stars. Open and sprawling, they walked a few minutes before stepping through the portal at the other end. Jim stumbled, feeling woozy; gate travel wasn’t very kind the first time around. Regaining his footing, he glanced up to thank the twins for keeping him steady, only to stare. The disguise the twins had worn on the mortal plane had melted into the usual original cloth of Heaven, with wings sweeping the floor. Feathers and beads whispered softly as they moved, releasing Jim from their grip. Chica seemed to smile knowingly at Jim’s reaction of appalled shock, she glanced at Host briefly.

Host was mumbling softly, his narrations hurried with anxiety. The group stood in Chica’s courtyard, sunlight warming the grass into the perfect sunbathing spot. He sighed in relief as she huffed, grabbing everyone’s attention. She took lead of the group, pushing through room after room; the only noise being everyone’s footsteps, and the tapping of Host’s walking cane.

When the ornate doors the Deity awaited behind appeared, the twins stepped around and began knocking obnoxiously.

“Enter.” Was the simple command from the other side, doors swinging open on silent hinges. All entered, Chica reclaiming her place to Mark’s right, sitting proudly. The two brothers stopping at the foot of short steps, sweeping their wings in a wide display and bowing down low; then standing to either side facing each other, like guards. Host remembered the Seraphs greeting, the urge to comply with habit and instinct overwhelming. But his wings… He was ashamed of them, and they remained hidden... Locked away. He bowed as far as he was able once more, as the Celestial turned to face them all. When Host glanced to the side he found Jim had politely followed suite, head low. His Sight turned to Mark next, who’s expression was a mix of sorrow and joy. It was then that Host noticed warmth dripping onto his bandaged palms. He hadn’t expected to cry, but deep inside he knew they were tears of solace. He was home, if only for a moment.

“The Host apologizes for getting blood on the Deity’s floor.” He spoke meekly, yet Mark’s face showed slight shock.

“Author?” He asked softly.

“..The Host shall explain again for the Deity’s sake, just as he did for the Seraphs of Mischief. The Author is dead, and Host is just... Host. A nephilim,” he replied calmly.

“And we are speaking in third person, why?”

“It is simpler for him. It allows to narrate, to see. But, the Host does break this rule, on rare occasion…” Mark’s hum was the answer to his explanation.

“Uhm… Not to interrupt, but why are we here exactly?” Jim’s blunt, unexpected outburst startling Mark.

“Ah, yes… That.” Mark’s expression fell. “The Twins have spent years.. six? I believe? Working out the details that surround the Trial. As two of my most trusted, I allowed them to investigate, yet without the witnesses’ memory, there isn’t much we can do at this point in time. Autho- Host’s trial seemed fishy to some, as did the Council's quick judgement. Yet, even in my position there wasn’t much I could do for Host. If I show favoritism, it might cause mutiny among my domain… It’s not easy being a god.” Mark gave a nervous, and stressed chuckle. “I’ve already risked quite a bit… Host is supposed to be dead, but... You can see how that turned out.” Mark shrugged. Jim nodded, understandment dawning in his eyes.

“So, we need to help the Twins, and help Host discover the truth.. That makes sense, but I must ask; Humble Deity, why am I here? I’m nothing but a human, surely I’m of little use.”

The twins cut in.

“You too will have an important role in this little operation. Host can't stay here in the Heavens, long lest we want all to realize he hasn’t parished. As a fellow Jim, we want you to help him when we can’t. Mischievous as we are, we can’t fool everyone all the time… Speaking of someone; He is on their way here, our window of time is closing.” the Twins relayed worriedly as Mark nodded.

“Mortal Jim, Host, something tells me this isn’t going to be easy. However, it won’t be impossible either. I’ll be sending Chica to affirm messages.” Mark looked toward Host, who stiffened as the Deity pulled a sad smile. “I wish you luck, Nephilim; may your memories return to you soon.” He glanced down at Chica, ruffling her fur before she returned to Host and gently nudged his side. As the steps had grown nearer, it was time to go.

//////

After the trio disappeared, Mark sighed heavily. Though, with the approaching steps to his door, he rolled his shoulders back and a warm smile slipped over his face. A Seraph bustled in, reports gripped tightly like they would fly from their clipboard. Doctor Iplier, the Seraph of Medicine.

“Sir, here are today’s clinic reports just as you ask--” He stopped short, eyes snapping to stark crimson droplets, staining the ivory floor. A twin rushed forward then, using a sleeve to wipe up the mess, while the other spun a tale.  
“Our apologies Mark, it seems we missed a spot when cleaning. Still sorry about that nose bleed mess, by the way.” He glanced at Mark while speaking, whom followed their lead.

“It’s fine, really. You cleaned the mess and are forgiven. Doctor, thank you for bringing me these reports!" He sweeped down to take them from the Seraph; who only then seemed to snap out of gawking at the others curiously when Mark held out a hand for the clipboard.

“Yes, of course. Here you are.” Iplier turned to the twins. “Make sure to stay hydrated, less of a chance with nosebleeds then.” The words came across oddly professional, as was the Doctor’s usual spiel. He turned to leave. No one saw the look of doubt as he left.. They were definitely hiding something.

//////

With a brief nudge Host stepped out the other side of the portal, the heavy familiar space of the archives assaulting his senses. Unlike the gentle reminder of the Heavens that had brought so many memories back. Both he and Jim flopped into their respective armchairs, only for Host to stand up in alarm--his skin crusted with dried blood, and fresh liquid lazily trailing warmly down his cheeks.

 

“Dammit.” He cursed to himself in a soft whisper. He was beginning to panic within his thoughts.. How was he to change the bindings without Jim being curious and trying to see his face? 

 

“Host?” Jim questioned, from the comfort of his sprawled form in the armchair. The Host tensed, like a spring that was either about to be sprung or snap under its own weight. Jim was beginning to peel himself from the chair, and Host took the opportunity to quickly shuffle through the shelves to where he kept fresh bandaging. Hoping to the deity that Jim would end up lost somewhere in the shelves or not give chase. Jim only stared on in confusion, noticing Host forgot his cane. Mind made up, he scooped up the worn down--yet lovingly cared for-- mahagonny gingerly, and followed after the Nephilim with caution.

 

Host was slowly peeling the equally soaked and crusty bandages from his head. He hissed softly as the wrapping pulled at his tender skin near the eyes, or got caught on his hair; which was coated thickly in grime, but that was the least of his worries at the moment. The faster he finished, the better. Slowly, he was feeling the panic fade from his ribcage. Placing the soiled bandaging in the bowl that he was leaned over to catch any drips, he reached for a fresh roll. He’d wash his face later, he decided, when he felt he could focus on it. His little routine was interrupted with a sharp gasp and the clatter of precious wood hitting the floor.

 

“Host!” Jim’s voice was a swirled mixture of horror and fascination. Host, like a startled deer froze violently, pressing his palms harshly into the flesh of his eyes as he sunk to the floor muttering sweet nothings to himself over and over. Jim had only seen Host’s back when he’d approached, but was now aware of what he was dealing with. Quietly, he stepped closer and kneeled in front of the broken creature. 

 

“Host,” he tried gently, “Host, sorry I scared you… Please calm down. Breathe. You need to breathe. Slowly now--It’s alright, you’re safe. I won’t get any nearer.” Jim’s tone was soft, as if speaking to a frightened child, as to which he thought was demeaning, but it was working.. So he wasn’t going to dwell on it. He wasn’t sure how long they both sat there, but at last Host had calmed; His muttering stopped. 

 

“Jim… The Host is not proud of his appearance nor his actions. He is sorry you had to bear witness to this mess. He knows you mean no harm and were just alarmed. The Host should have known better…” His voice was hoarse as he whispered.

 

“May I.. help in some way…?” Jim asked timidly, not wanting to spook the Host again. Jim believed that no matter how bad the Host looked, he could stomach it enough to provide help to the Nephilim. Host seemed to contemplate this; Jim had heard the Host’s past, so maybe allowing the help would be a nice change.

 

“...The help would be appreciated, yes.” Host swayed as he slowly stood, and Jim scrambled to hand Host his cane. A hand clasped tightly over his eyes with a soft cloth he’d grabbed to catch blood and one on his cane, Host carefully stepped forward. 

 

“Jim, please grab the bowl and the fresh rolls, then follow the Host. That is, if Jim still wants to help.” Host rattled his directions off as he returned to his desk and packed up his typewriter. The case handle hanging neatly on the cane, so the Host could carry both items in his left hand. Jim carefully lifted the bowl of soiled bandages with two hands and stuck the fresh rolls in his jacket pockets. Following the Host’s sure steps through the church, they arrived at a large staircase that lazily spiraled out of sight.

 

“There are exactly eighty-seven steps to The Host’s quarters...” The Host mumbled quietly. Jim overheard, but wasn’t sure if the comment was directed at him or not, so he opted to say nothing as he followed along. The wood door creaked slightly as it swung inwards, and Host stepped in leaning his cane on the door frame. Jim stumbled in, luckily without spilling anything, and set the bowl on the desk next to the typewriter. Host, who had disappeared into a side room returned with a basin of steaming water, and a red cloth draped on its rim.

 

“Would Jim please assist in the removal of the blood from the Host’s face? He admits that he is not always gentle with the wound, and things usually end up.. worse...” Host held the basin out in hesitant invitation. Jim, taking a deep breath for courage, took the porcelain from Host’s hands.

 

“Sure.” Was the only word he muttered, unsurely.

 

Host plopped down onto his desk chair, and carefully peeled his hand and cloth from his eyes. Anxiety running in his veins, he was taking a risk; he knew he was… yet, at the same time, something told him he could trust Jim with this.

 

Jim, hesitant to even look, finally glanced up from the dish he’d set down and stifled his gasp. The image burning into his memory would haunt him, but there was no going back now.

 

**.:TO BE CONTINUED IN PART THREE:.**

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully your itching to know what's in store, haha. Also, if you have questions for those of the Devout Au: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/askthehostyghosty  
> See you again soon!


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